And bravery was the very subject that Logan managed to work into the talk he was attempting to have with Jessie. The woman made it difficult, what with her lips getting in the way for the most pleasurable kisses.
“That day you went to the Junction. Why didn’t you tell me what happened in the store? I know Billy Jack was there. I know that Zach and Monte were there, too. Jess, if I’d known, I would never have left here—”
“Let me tell you what I dreamed about you from the night you left,” she whispered, snuggled against his side on his blanket while he rested his back against a bale of hay. To make sure she had his attention, she drew his head down to meet her waiting lips. His kiss was sweet, but far too short for her.
“My brave lady,” he murmured, lifting his head to finish, despite her offered temptations. “For what he did to you I would have killed him, if I’d known. Why didn’t you tell me, Jessie? You had to have some idea that I was connected with them.”
Jessie closed her eyes and sighed. She had done her best to avoid this, but Logan wouldn’t let it be.
“I wasn’t brave. I was scared. But all they did was frighten me.” For a moment she saw again the image of herself cringing beneath Billy Jack’s touch, and she couldn’t stop the shudder that ripped through her. “No, don’t, I’m all right,” she protested when he held her tighter. “And I couldn’t tell you. I was…I wanted, no, I needed to forget it.”
“The whiskey—”
“False courage, I discovered, and it made me sick.”
“Damn it, Jess. You shouldn’t have gone through that. I just don’t understand why no one stopped them.”
“Silas? He wouldn’t. They were spending money and I’m not a very good customer. His Indian woman was paid to…well, I can’t judge another. And David—”
“David? That guy that’s been courting you? He was there? He—”
Jessie covered his mouth with her hand, silently cursing herself for letting that slip. She rose to her knees and leaned over him. “I want you to listen to me. I am my own woman. I didn’t ask for David’s help that day because I knew those men would hurt him. It’s over, Logan. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Logan settled his hands on her hips, slid down until he was supine and urged Jessie to stretch out on top of him. “Comfy?”
“Actually—”
“You’re delighted to be in charge,” he said with underlying laughter that lulled her. “I want to ask one more question, Jess. Just one more, all right?”
“Only one?” She heard the strain in her voice, and knew he had, too, for his hands stroked over her back as if to calm and reassure at the same time.
“I want to know the reason why you didn’t tell me. And don’t tell me it was to protect me, Jess. I already know that part.”
Jessie lowered her head to his chest and listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart. She wished he hadn’t asked her, wished she could stay like this forever, safe and warm in his arms with no thoughts of his leaving her again circling through her mind. Silently she blessed him for his patience and for the touch of his hands gently telling her how much he cared.
The moments stretched into minutes, and with them grew a fear in Logan that more, so much more, had happened to her that he was hurting her by asking that she tell him.
“Jess—”
“Logan—”
The apologies were quick, but Logan told her to speak first. He needed to know if he had to go back and hunt down Billy Jack, and this time he’d make sure that animal never hurt anyone again.
“I don’t know if I can explain this to you,” she began. “But I felt helpless that day. Helpless to stop them. Helpless to punish them. And I felt so dirty. Dirty and a-ashamed,” she finished, sniffing as tears gathered.
But she was very aware of the tension gathering in his body and knew, even without a word from him, what he was going to do.
“I told you the truth. Now I want a promise from you. I—”
This time Logan slipped his hand gently over her mouth. “Don’t ask that of me. You’re mine. You know that, Jess. I don’t want you to ever fear anyone. And you need to understand that you’re not alone anymore.”
He removed his hand and stroked her cheek, gritting his teeth when he felt her tears. “Come up here, sweet lady. I need to kiss you.”
“It doesn’t matter to you, does it?”
“Jess, how can you ask me that? You matter to me more than anything. Well, those two boys can’t be forgotten.” He liked the way she wiggled her way upward until her mouth hovered over his. Logan liked it so much he was fair to bursting his britches.
“I want very much to make love with you,” she whispered, glad of the dark that allowed her to be bold.
“The boys?”
“Are soundly asleep after the day we spent—”
“Later, Jess.” He rubbed his mouth against hers. “Later you can tell me all about them.”
Jessie dipped her head and kissed the corners of his mouth. “Will you promise you won’t leave without waking me?”
Logan cupped the back of her head as hunger would no longer be denied. “Don’t ask that, Jess. Don’t ever ask me to say goodbye to you.”
And he took her mouth with a kiss that slowly deepened, stroking her tongue with his until she was trembling. He couldn’t taste enough, couldn’t touch enough of this woman who had come into his life and left her mark on his mind and his heart. His lips slanted across her face, wooing and greedy. Jessie made those hungry little sounds that he loved to hear, running her hands over his chest and arms, whispering encouragement when he arched his body upward for more.
And his pleasure increased when she overcame her shyness to murmur what she wanted, then grew bolder still when he demanded that she show him.
There was laughter as he blocked what tomorrow would bring from his mind, and cherished these loving moments with the woman he wanted beside him forever.
Wildness and fire came together until they were one in flesh, body and mind and the shimmering pleasure that awaited them once again.
He hated leaving her, hated it and knew he had no choice. When he eased himself from her sleeping form, Logan wished he could carry her inside the cabin, but fear of waking the boys stopped him. He left her wrapped in his blanket with the silent promise in his mind that he would come back for her.
Chapter Nineteen
Jessie drifted awake slowly, then bolted upright. She knew she was alone. For a moment she sat there, clutching the blanket that was filled with the scent of their lovemaking, her loose hair falling around her.
She kept the promise she had made to herself that there would be no regrets this morning. She pushed her hair back. From the open shed she could see the lighter shades of gray in the sky. Her shawl lay across the blanket, and she took hold of it as she stood. Wrapping the shawl around her against the slight morning chill, she went to the doorway to watch the dawn chase the last vestige of night, wondering where Logan was, and if he, too, watched the coming day.
The light brightened in seconds, and long shafts of color began to appear, a yellow glow lifting the shadows from the land. Lavender streaks suddenly blended with the yellow, then pink and pale orange showed for a few moments. Abruptly, it was sunrise.
Knowing that the boys might also be waking up, she took a few minutes to finger comb her hair and plait it into a single braid. Bits of straw fell as she worked, and each one was a reminder of the night past. She refused to cry, just as she refused to linger a moment longer.
She hurried across the yard to the cabin and eased open the door. The room was filled with a soft, shadowed light, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the boys were still asleep. Tiptoeing to her bed, she gathered up her clothes and slipped behind the blanket strung on a rope in the corner to afford her some privacy.
The water was barely warm even though it had sat in the pitcher all night. Jessie hurriedly washed, feeling a strange sense of urgency that she could not
explain or find the source of. Donning her chemise, she fumbled tying the ribbons closed. Impatience with herself only made matters worse as she knotted the drawstring on her petticoat. By the time she had slipped on her skirt and shirt and buttoned the last button, she was in a sweat. Picking up her boots, Jessie pushed aside the blanket. Sitting on her bed, she pulled on her boots. The light was brighter now inside the cabin. Bright enough for her to stare at the still forms on the floor. Marty always kicked off his quilt during the night. She hadn’t woken up one morning since they’d been staying with her and not found him huddled into a tight little ball.
Not only did he appear covered with his quilt, but it had been pulled up over his head.
Could he have woken up and heard her with Logan? Jessie felt heat rise in her cheeks. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, praying that had not happened. And if it had…
Her inexperience in dealing with young boys and their incessant questions rushed over her. But she had never been one to shirk her obligations. Although she never thought of Marty and Kenny as such. They had given her so much these past days. And she believed that she had given them something they needed in return. Love and someone to count on being there no matter what happened.
“All right, sleepyheads,” she called out softly, thinking to tease them awake, “time to rise.” Jessie stood and crossed over to Kenny.
Leaning over, she eased the edge of the quilt down.
A rolled-up pillow met her disbelieving eyes. She flung the quilt aside and saw his clothing bunched on the bottom quilt.
“And where Kenny goes…” She knew Marty wasn’t there, but, pulling the quilt away from his place and clutching it to her chest, all Jessie could do was stare.
It took minutes of arguing with herself that there was no reason to panic for panic to take hold and override every reason she thought of to explain their disappearance.
She had promised they would go up to the wagons today with Adorabelle and bring back whatever they could load on the horse and carry. It was something that Kenny had suggested, and she had agreed to, thinking they would enjoy having things from their homes around them.
Kenny wouldn’t have gone without her. He had made her a promise that he wouldn’t go off without telling her.
But what had made them leave? And when? Guilt hit her so forcefully that she staggered back until the edge of the table stopped her.
Had they awakened and needed her? Had Marty had one of his bad dreams again? She would have heard him cry out.
Would you? Lost as you were in your lover’s arms, would you have heard anything but the murmur of his voice?
“I would have. I swear I would have,” she insisted. Jessie threw the quilt down and grabbed her hat and shotgun. She ran from the cabin to the corral.
The sight of the brown horse she had bought for Logan stopped her for a moment. But even as she ran for the saddle and bridle he’d left hanging on the pole fence, she knew it was a blessing. Adorabelle was not the horse she needed now.
She talked as she worked the bit between his teeth, desperate to keep the panic at bay. “Blessing is going to be your name. That’s what you are. And if you’re half as good as Logan thinks, you’ll help me bring my boys home.”
The animal’s quiet steadiness enabled Jessie to work quickly. Logan’s saddle was heavier than her own, and she saw that he’d left his rifle behind. She wouldn’t allow the question to rise of where he’d gotten such a finely made rifle. Engraved silver plates were worked into the gleaming wood of the stock.
The sound of men’s voices arrested Jessie. She froze with her hand touching the rifle. The horse stood between her and the fence and she slipped the rifle from the scabbard, crouching down as the sound of a hoof striking stone joined their voices.
“I’m telling you, they’ve got to be one and the same. I can’t believe he listened to me go on and never said a word.”
“Maybe,” Conner returned, “he didn’t want us to know.” Topping the slope, he drew rein and cast a searching gaze over the yard, noting the open door of the cabin and the meanness of the place. “Not exactly a thriving concern, is it?”
“Remember what I told you. Greg—”
“Just hold up right where you are.” Jessie stepped out and away from behind the horse, aiming the rifle at them. “State your business. And make it fast. I’m in a hurry.”
Jessie prayed the stomach-churning fear wouldn’t betray her. She made quick judgments of both the men and their horses. The sleek hides, despite a coating of dust, told her these horses weren’t range fed but had been grained recently and regularly. The riders were covered with the same dust, indicating a long, hard ride. Dark stubble on their faces lent a dangerous air to both men. She tried to avoid the gaze of the younger one, who was studying her with the same intensity.
“Talk,” she prompted. What would she do if they were after Logan? Without her being aware, her hand slid over the hammer and cocked the rifle.
“Hold on. Don’t this beat all,” Ty said, thumbing back his hat. This woman wasn’t the mousey Jessie that he remembered. That one wouldn’t know which end of a rifle to aim at a man. But he couldn’t deny that she had not only the same lush figure of Greg’s sister but, from what he could see of the braid hanging over her shoulder, the same color hair. The pieces all fit. They had to fit, or he’d come on a wild-goose chase and taken Conner with him.
Ty held his arms out and away from his body. “You don’t remember me?”
“Should I?” Jessie frowned. There was something about that cocky grin that nagged the back of her mind.
“Ty Kincaid,” he prompted with a small edge of annoyance in his voice. “I met you up on your brother’s place. You are Jessie, aren’t you? Greg’s sister,” he added when she still showed no sign of recognizing him. “I’m the one Livia tried to match—”
“Ty?” Jessie shook her head. “What are you doing here? Did something happen to my brother?” She started to shake, and fought to control it.
“Greg and his family were fine when I left them.”
Jessie’s gaze went from Ty to the other man. His very stillness and waiting air alarmed her. If Ty hadn’t come because of her brother, then her suspicions were right. They had come after Logan.
“I’ve no time to visit. Make yourself and your quiet friend here at home. I’ve got to find my boys.”
“Boys?” Ty spurred his horse to cover the short distance to the corral, where he quickly dismounted. “What are you talking about? Greg never said anything about you having any children.”
“My brother hasn’t bothered to keep in touch with me since I married.”
“You can’t put all the blame on him,” Ty said in defense of his friend. “Greg worries about you. I know he didn’t care much for the man you married and I’m sorry to say it to you. But what really bothered him was you’re living so far away. Greg’ll come around.” Ty’s thoughts raced. If this was the woman Logan had been with, she had lied to his brother. He grew uncomfortable with the thought that Logan didn’t care that she was another man’s wife.
“Greg doesn’t need to worry anymore. Harry’s dead. And the boys aren’t exactly mine. Please, Ty, it’s a long and complicated story. When I woke up the boys were gone, and I’ve got to find them.”
Jessie’s matter of fact tone stopped Ty from murmuring words of sorrow for Harry’s death. He hid his relief that she was a widow and not a liar. He hopped the fence and went to her. “Jessie, take it from me, boys love to get up early and take off, especially if there are chores waiting.” Seeing that she was shaken, despite his attempt to reassure her, Ty proceeded to finish saddling the horse.
Jessie slipped the rifle back into the scabbard, trying to sort through her worry about Logan and her need to make Ty understand about the boys.
Neither of them noticed that Conner had dismounted and stood holding the reins to his horse and Ty’s outside the fence, until he spoke.
“Ty? Did you notice the rifle?”
>
Jessie looked up. She was instantly leery, her fear rising for Logan and what these men wanted with him. She stepped around the horse to block this stranger’s view, sorry she had been so quick to set the rifle aside.
“What about my rifle, mister?”
Eyeing the challenge flaring in her brown eyes, Conner answered her in a soft, controlled voice. “I’m Ty’s older brother, Conner. That rifle you claim as yours belongs—”
“No!” Jessie didn’t want to hear that Logan had stolen it. She turned, yanked the rifle free and tossed it over the fence at Conner. Her nerves were strung so tight she couldn’t seem to think straight.
“You’ve got the rifle,” she said to him, then rounded on Ty. “I don’t know what’s got you chuckling, but I’ve no time for this.” She hated stepping closer to the fence where Conner stood, but she intended to untie the reins to her horse and leave.
“Jessie, you don’t understand,” Ty said. A glance at Conner’s furious expression should have stopped him from grinning. But it was so rare that Conner appeared buffaloed, Ty couldn’t help himself.
Conner, hanging on to his temper by a hair, ignored Ty’s grin. He tried once more to explain. “You took my asking about the rifle the wrong way, Jessie. It is all right if I call you that?”
“Fine. Just hurry up.”
“I gave that rifle to my brother. And it’s not something that he would give away.” Despite his effort, the last was spoken in an angry voice. He’d been riding all night, worrying about Logan, his mother’s involvement with Riverton and a hundred other smaller problems. Now he had to put up with a woman who simply glared at him as if he had lied to her.
“Now, Conner—”
“If you know what’s good for you, little brother, you’ll shut up.”
“You’re telling me,” Jessie asked Conner, “that this rifle belonged to your brother?”
“That’s what I said.” The hair holding his temper frayed. She had to make up her mind quickly or she was going to witness what few people ever saw then talked about—Conner Kincaid losing his temper.
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